


Genji Goes To The Supermarket

by animaAdministrator



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Gen, Genji does a lot more than go to the supermarket, Overwatch assemble!, Post-Recall, This is exactly what you expect for about two minutes and then everything kind of goes off the rails, this is kind of turning into a Genji/Tracer BFF fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:12:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animaAdministrator/pseuds/animaAdministrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji Shimada picks up the groceries, despite the fact that he can’t actually eat things anymore, and he is rewarded with an uncomfortable but important encounter for his trouble.</p><p>(Unlikely to be picked back up, but I'm leaving it here.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a Twitter prompt, same as the fic's title.
> 
> Spoilers: Genji does a lot more in this story than go to the supermarket.

Genji received a text message from Winston about a day prior. _“On Sunday, you will be responsible for the team’s weekly shopping.”_ The scientist had taken it upon himself to assign weekly upkeep tasks to all active members of Overwatch… all four of them. Amidst the rest of the assignments that the ragtag group of do-gooders had to perform on a regular basis, it was apparently surprisingly easy to let simple things like food shopping fall off the radar. Genji hadn't ever been given this specific chore before yesterday; Winston probably thought it insensitive to assign food shopping to the cyborg who could no longer eat. (It was very considerate of him to think of things like that, if not completely necessary.) The only reason he could think of for the sudden change was that they simply didn’t have enough hands at the moment for someone else to do the job. What’s more, the group was currently stationed in Numbani, so Genji would be able to walk in pretending to be an omnic and be entirely unquestioned. “Omnics go shopping for their human housemates all the time out here,” Tracer had told him.

Unfortunately, Tracer wasn’t here to accompany Genji on the expedition; she was busy sorting something out with the Overwatch Museum downtown after the incident with Doomfist’s gauntlet. He was just going by himself to buy a week’s worth of sustenance for two humans and a gorilla (who counted double for the amount of food he consumed).

Genji walked into the building as casual as could be, nodding to the grocer who welcomed him on his way in. He would never tell anyone that he was nervous about this, because it was incredibly stupid, but… it had been quite some time since he’d last set foot in a supermarket. Even before — ahem — splitting off from the Shimadas, he had servants to do all the shopping and cooking for him, and pre-disbandment Overwatch was a large enough UN-supported organization that they had other people to do this kind of thing. But that wasn’t true any longer. Overwatch was essentially starting again from the ground up (or maybe lower than that, from the pits of Hell perhaps), and this was how it was now. After everything he had already accomplished, Genji would never be stopped by a little shopping trip.

The supermarket immediately assaulted him with a huge array of colors and sounds, crammed within a high-ceilinged but relatively small area. It was early enough in the day that most people were at work (not that Genji knew very much about the ways of salarymen and -women), so the aisles were wide enough that he could move his metallic cart thing around with ease. He was pleased to notice that there were a few omnics milling around with the humans, just like Tracer had said. Passersby tended to assume that he was some kind of strangely-plated omnic anyway, but in the places he usually visited, they were far rarer than in Numbani. 

Actually, for the minor concerns he had harbored going in here before, Genji was beginning to enjoy himself. Most of the foods Tracer, McCree, and Winston requested were common for the English-speaking world, with a few he recognized from Japan and abroad. He had the grocery list saved and projected on a heads-up display in the corner of his visor, and despite wandering uselessly for longer than most people would have, he thought he was doing fairly well. However, being in West Africa, there was also no shortage of mysterious and arcane ingredients he knew nothing about — for instance, _garri_. What even is a garri? Bitterleaf? Ogiri-igbo, how would you even _pronounce_ that?

Genji puzzled over these great mysteries, ignoring how his body-temp regulators were being thrown for a loop from the light human clothes he put on for this assignment. He was thinking perfectly normal, mundane thoughts; hence, he was taken off-guard when he glanced up and noticed a flash of hair so unruly the bangs looked like a dragon’s whiskers. 

There was only one person with hair like that. 

Shit.

Immediately, Genji’s organic and cybernetic hearts started running overdrive. Visions from a night six weeks and thirteen thousand kilometers away started flashing in his memories. There was no easy way out of here without inviting a huge commotion, and probably also a few hundred dollars’ worth of naira in compensation for any food, furniture, or people who were knocked over and subsequently damaged. He had throwing stars built into his wrist if he needed them, but he really didn’t want to need them. Presumably, Hanzo wasn’t stupid enough to bring a bow and quiver into a grocery store, but Genji couldn’t say for sure if he wasn’t stupid enough to lunge for him with fists flying on sight. (Like last time.) All of this flashed through his augmented mind in a fraction of a second, and as it turned out none of it was necessary — because Hanzo wasn’t doing anything.

He was just standing there holding a plastic grocery basket, and staring at him in wide-eyed alarm. It was almost comical; his brother, the man who killed him once and nearly did it again, standing before him in civilian clothing, caught in the middle of buying some milk and a loaf of bread. Neither of them spoke for a ten-second period that felt like forever, and then Genji tentatively asked, “What are you doing here?”

Hanzo’s eyebrow twitched, but he also didn’t throw the question right back at Genji, which did not go unnoticed. Instead, his expression slowly hardened into a glare that looked much more natural on his face (he did spend most of his time glaring at things, after all). “I was looking for something,” the man replied in a voice as tight as a bowstring. “I did not anticipate finding _you_.”

“Nor did I.” It was amazing how calm the sentence came out. Genji recognized that phrase, ‘looking for something’ — he had used it many times over the years when asked what a part-man part-omnic from Japan was doing in South America, or Egypt, or Nepal. He could not be sure, but some irrational part of him hoped that Hanzo was using it for much the same reasons. Unsure what to fill the silence with after that, he added: “Numbani is a nice place.”

“I have been here before,” Hanzo agreed(?). He still looked uncomfortably strained, presumably trying to hold back his rage, which told Genji that neither of them knew how to approach this situation. Again, Genji was struck with the absurdity of it all; from words alone, this could be a perfectly normal conversation on the severity level people used for commenting on the weather. He figured the thought came because of his master’s influence; Zenyatta always had a knack for noticing little oddities like that.

If the most likely outcome was true and Hanzo had been lying through his teeth about not expecting Genji here, he had plenty of questions and a few hours before Winston would be expecting him back. His brother probably wasn’t going to punch him in the semi-robotic face at this point, but pulling out his phone in the middle of a conversation would probably come off as rude, so Genji used his built-in communication functions to send a text back to Winston over their secure channel: _“Unexpected circumstances have arisen. I may be late. If I do not return or confirm my location again within three hours, assume I have gone offline.”_ Offline, in this case, meaning either unconscious or dead. He could never really be sure, with someone like Hanzo.

“Did you follow me here?” Genji asked. “If not, what were you looking for?”

“I left for Numbani following rumors of a group it is best not to speak loudly of here.”

There were two major possibilities for the organization he could be talking about: Doomfist or Overwatch. Doomfist was not exactly a group, but according to their intel, he worked clandestinely enough to still be in the realm of ‘rumors’ for most of the population. So, him… or Overwatch.

Genji suddenly became aware that he was carrying a shopping cart full of more food than one person would conceivably need, even if that person could eat. It was highly conspicuous for someone who was supposedly working alone. Hanzo had probably seen that too, by now. Whoops.

“Let us do what we came here to do,” Genji told him in a faintly authoritative tone, “and continue this conversation elsewhere.”

— — — 

‘Elsewhere’ turned out to be Genji’s car.

“You have a _car_?” Hanzo asked him incredulously, climbing in the passenger’s seat.

“Rental,” he replied simply.

The machine was paid for by an ally of the organization, a certain Lúcio Correia dos Santos, for use while they were in Numbani. There was no other convenient way to take all the groceries back to their ‘base’, so despite having not practiced driving for several years, Genji re-familiarized himself and took it for a spin. But of course, he had no plans to tell Hanzo any of this. (He had no plans to have Hanzo in his car in the first place, either, but look how that turned out.)

“So, this group…?” Genji began, looking over at his brother.

Hanzo was looking around the interior of the car almost critically, probably looking for any traps or signs of a planted microphone. He found none. “…Overwatch,” the man conceded after a few beats. Genji nodded mutely, finding himself unable to look away from Hanzo’s face; he was still a bit stricken to see his brother this close after so many years, and _not_ trying to kill him. He could clearly recognize all the similarities to the face Hanzo wore in his youth… and all the differences. Experience had clearly aged him more than the passage of time would have led one to believe; his entire face was more sunken now, all lines and heaviness and scars that hadn’t been there before. Even if he was a stranger, Genji would instantly recognize him as a man who carried an _immense_ burden on his shoulders.

Once upon a time, Genji would have snapped _’Good — let him carry that burden! He deserves it!’_ , all boiling blood and righteous fury. Now he just felt tired, and horribly sad.

“Overwatch…” Genji echoed, pulling himself back with great effort to the conversation at hand. “That is not the sort of group to be taken lightly. Why, Brother?” He nearly said ‘Traded in your old criminal organization for a new one?’, to back up the illusion of not being involved, but held his tongue at the last minute. There was no other way to explain this situation than to admit his involvement with Overwatch, and even if he did come up with something right now, his brother would notice the numerous gaps that were sure to be there. Besides, Hanzo had spent many years clueless of Genji’s true fate and allegiance, while Genji had been keeping an eye on his actions wherever possible; he deserved to finally learn the truth.

Hanzo considered this question for a while, and stared straight ahead as he answered, so Genji saw his face in profile. “Because the Shimada clan continues its machinations even now. If I truly wish to remove them from the picture permanently… I stand a small chance of doing so on my own.”

Pure logic told Genji that he really should have expected this, but he thought he knew his brother better than that. Hanzo— the Hanzo he knew would never even consider accepting anyone else’s help, much less seek it out on his own. And he certainly wouldn’t ever acknowledge the possibility of failure out loud. Maybe, Genji realized with a start, something he had said that night actually rattled Hanzo’s brain enough to change his mind; if not his ideals, then at least his methods. This was a major development. Even if Hanzo couldn’t fulfill the hope that Genji placed in him… then he was still, at least, able to change.

He sent another message to Winston. _’Returning home, with a guest. Prepare for a heavy conversation.’_

“If you want to find Overwatch,” Genji said, “I can take you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus facts:
> 
> — The active agents in Overwatch are Winston, Tracer, Genji, and McCree. Winston and McCree are “responsible dad” and “gruff support dad” in Soldier’s absence, and while they’re both making an admirable effort, the original remains the best.  
> — I assumed Numbani was somewhere in Nigeria for simplicity’s sake (you can tell because the naira is the official Nigerian currency and really only used there). However, I did a lot of googling and know very little about the actual place, so if I messed something up let me know and I’ll correct it to be more accurate!  
> — The ‘incident with Doomfist’s gauntlet’ is of course the Overwatch Cinematic Trailer, which happened a few months before this fic. Dragons happened six weeks before it.  
> — Lúcio would have lent them his own car, except it’s still in Brazil. Mercifully, no one’s put his license plate number on the Internet yet. (Since you can’t legally change license plate numbers in Brazil, he’d have to buy a new one if that happened.)  
> — The fact that OW and Lúcio would be in Numbani during the same time period was organized in advance; it’s the last stop on Lúcio’s tour, and he plans to get more personally involved with Overwatch shortly after.  
> — Genji wanted to learn driving early, mostly because he wanted to be able to go places (aka parties) without the Shimadas necessarily knowing about it.  
> — I had no fucking idea what I was doing or where I was going at any point during the creation of this story. It was written in one night between the hours of 11PM and 4AM. I’m so sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji returns from the supermarket! (Sorry about all this deleting and re-uploading tomfoolery, I am probably a bit too serious about it. Especially to bzarcher, whose comment was sadly lost but is immortalized forever in my email inbox.)

_“Genji, just talk to me. Who’s the guest?”_

Genji didn’t answer that text for a while because he was too busy driving, and for once in his life he was being a responsible adult. (Actually, it was because he still had to concentrate fairly hard on getting this car to move the way he wanted, and therefore splitting his attention would be even more disastrous than it would be for the average person.) For his part, Hanzo seemed to get the memo very quickly, and stopped asking questions once he realized that Genji had more pressing matters on his mind. When they hit a red light, Genji finally slapped together a response to Winston.

_“My brother. He’s here, and was looking for Overwatch to help him take down the rest of our family’s syndicate. He’s in the car with me right now.”_

Winston sent many more messages in quick succession over the next couple of minutes that Genji didn’t even bother to look at, and then abruptly stopped. Presumably, he was telling Tracer and McCree the news. He was probably also getting annoyed. Every single one of them knew _of_ Genji’s situation; his stated reason for joining Overwach the first time was exactly the same as Hanzo’s was now. Genji had probably shared more details about his relationship with Hanzo in fits of rage than he did in actual conversation, so he had been putting an effort into casually not elaborating that topic ever since the recall. Clearly, he would not have the luxury of doing that anymore.

All of a sudden, he desperately wished Zenyatta was here right now.

Both of the Shimadas were more or less silent until they pulled into the driveway of Overwatch’s temporary base of operations. It was a house they were renting, far enough away from the city that no one was around to notice a _literal gorilla_ in the window. It had been quite an experience finding a place with wide enough doors for Winston to move easily through, without actually explaining to outsiders why they needed such broad doors. Speaking of, he could clearly see Tracer peering out from behind the curtains, lacking her usual easygoing demeanour; she was back from the meeting downtown, and definitely knew who else was in the car. A second later, she had blinked away.

Genji turned to Hanzo, who was staring somewhere off to the side with a determinedly blank expression on his face. “Come with me,” he said. “I am going in to talk to them. They will want to keep an eye on you.” And move a few of these groceries into the refrigerator before they spoiled out in the heat. 

“I was under the impression that they were in need of more agents,” Hanzo objected. 

“They are, but… tensions are high right now,” he explained. He made a resolution to explain the other reason they were disinclined towards Hanzo, the one relating to Angela Ziegler and a certain cyborg body, later. “With our current position, we are all as good as criminals in the eyes of the United Nations and the rest of the world. One misstep could easily lead to all of us in lifelong imprisonment or death, and with all due respect, Brother, you have the potential to be a very important misstep.”

Hanzo looked very personally affronted — and this may have just been Genji imagining things, but he also looked like he was beginning to detect that there was more to that statement than he knew at the moment. 

Genji opened the messages from Winston on his walk up the driveway. They went a little something like this.

_“Genji, don’t make any rash decisions. Talk to me.”_  
“Genji, answer me. Genji!”  
“Genji I am ordering you to answer this text right now.”  
“GENJI.” 

And so on. 

This was going to be a very heavy conversation indeed.

All three of the other Overwatch operatives were waiting impatiently by the door when the two men entered. Hanzo’s attention snapped immediately to the fact that one of them was a gorilla (a very angry gorilla, at that), which kept him conveniently silent while Genji started talking before anyone could scream at him. Really, Winston was the only one who looked even remotely like he wanted to scream at him; McCree was practicing calculated disinterest and Tracer was looking at Hanzo as if she expected him to be a robot too, and was mildly surprised when he wasn’t. Instead of speaking immediately, Genji walked past all three of them into the kitchen, where he started putting groceries away. Tracer and McCree fell in to do the same, but the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife until someone finally started speaking. It was Winston.

“Genji, I should hope that you have a _very_ good explanation for this.”

At that exact moment, Genji fixed Hanzo with what he knew was a very intimidating glare (he had to practice hard, many years ago, to figure out how to glare at people with no visible eyes or eyebrows). Hanzo, who was about to say something probably along the lines of “The monkey talks,” kept silent.

“Everyone, this is Hanzo, my older brother.”

“…Nice to meet ya,” said Tracer, a bit awkwardly.

“And you as well,” Hanzo muttered.

“Hanzo, this is every currently active member of Overwatch. Myself included.” He turned his gaze specifically to Winston, even as he continued to address the group. “They are all understandably concerned about your presence here due to the delicate political situation we are all operating under, and are probably questioning your loyalty, after past events.” Anticipating Hanzo’s interruption, Genji silenced him with a single hand motion almost before he opened his mouth, and continued. “However, I have already informed them briefly of why you are here, and—” to the rest of Overwatch— “would like to emphasize that I believe he will be nothing less than wholly trustworthy.”

“Genji, hang on.” McCree raised a finger to speak. “Why are _you_ doin’ this? Wasn’t it this fellow who caused so many of your problems in the first place?”

“I told Hanzo before that I forgave him,” Genji said with finality, “and I meant it.”

McCree looked at Hanzo again, but seemed to accept this as an answer and fell silent. Genji was not fooled. He knew McCree would be watching to make his own assessments; Blackwatch members were like that sometimes.

“Let’s do what needs to be done and allow the man to speak for himself.” Winston’s tone was the sort of half-growl that reminded everyone in the room that he was in fact a beast at heart, if a very intelligent and eloquent one. Tracer, Genji, and McCree agreed. They set about awkwardly carrying in and putting away the rest of the groceries, while Winston (too large and unwieldy to be of much help) and Hanzo (on such thin ice that he couldn’t afford to do anything but stand darkly in the corner) went into the living room. They waited for the rest of the team, and during this time neither of them said a single word.

After everyone had assembled — the four humans and half-humans on couches, and Winston on the floor — Hanzo finally began his appeal. Genji promised himself that he would not be cutting in this time; it was a battle that his brother needed to navigate on his own. He watched as Hanzo easily re-donned the air of a businessman… or, perhaps more accurately, the many layers of false politeness and professionalism that were expected of a criminal empire’s oldest son.

“As you know, I am Hanzo Shimada, eldest son and former heir of the Shimada empire. As I am sure you all are aware, the empire’s activity has spiked dramatically in the past five years, starting almost immediately after Overwatch’s disbandment. For all of those five years, I have been working on my own to finish the job that was started… and begin to restore my honor.” Genji _could_ have thought of several choice comments on Hanzo’s ‘honor’, but he didn’t think any of them. “It quickly became apparent that there was no possible way to do this as a single-man operation, so I was forced to take other measures in order to see it die. I followed your trail to this city through a combination of rumours and stolen Shimada intelligence.” 

All four of the members exchanged worried glances; they saw where this was going, and none of them liked it. Hanzo paused for a moment, then continued. “As you may have guessed, the empire has been collecting data on your organization as well, with the intention of nipping this particular obstacle in the bud. They know you are in this country. I doubt it will take long before they trace you to Numbani itself.”

Well. 

He always did know how to make a striking first impression.

“…I would like to see some of this data for myself, if that’s at all possible,” Winston rumbled.

From seemingly nowhere, Hanzo pulled out a small flash drive. “It is all in here. Much of it is far too sensitive to be left anywhere other than on my person.” He handed it over to Winston, who thanked him and made towards the computer they all shared. Tracer was immediately looking over his shoulder, McCree joined soon after, and eventually everyone was crowded around the screen. It was distressingly cramped compared to what they had back at Gibraltar, Genji recalled, but if this information was to be believed, they would be returning there _extremely_ soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL let me just thank everyone who commented, subscribed, and kudos…ed… on the first chapter!! This was only supposed to be a really dumb small thing and I can’t express enough how happy I am that everyone liked it so much! I hope this next part was up to your supermarket expectations ;w;
> 
> Second of all, please continue to let me know how I'm doing! These characters are still p. new to me (winston especially, dude i am so sorry), so if you think their personalities/mannerisms/etc. are misrepresented somehow, let me know in the comments section.
> 
> Bonus Facts:
> 
> — Even if this series continues on for longer and starts to develop an actual plot, I have absolutely no plans to change the title to anything other than Genji Goes To The Supermarket. It can only become more hilariously unfitting. I will probably regret this statement eventually, but oh well.  
> — Winston tagged along for this Numbani trip partially because he was a member of OW so of course he was going, but also because he really wanted to see places that weren’t Gibraltar.  
> — Until Genji said “I can take you to Overwatch,” Hanzo had absolutely no idea that the two were related. He definitely didn’t know that the individual who tried, and almost succeeded, in taking down the Shimadas before Overwatch’s fall was Genji himself.  
> — Genji’s quest to ‘figure out how to glare at people with no visible eyes or eyebrows’ was made a lot harder because Zenyatta never wanted him to glare at anyone.  
> — Not every Overwatch agent was a superstar like Tracer or Jack or even Winston; in fact, more than half of them weren’t even household names. If you introduced yourself as a member of Overwatch, though, you were instantly treated with the utmost respect by pretty much everyone.  
> — Genji does not know where Zenyatta is at this exact moment, for they agreed that Genji should take some time to reflect on his own at some point before the Recall. Finding him and appealing him to join Overwatch is on Genji’s to-do list.  
> — Right under “actually tell Hanzo why he’s not dead”. As you can see, Genji is making excellent progress on his to-do list.  
> — Since we might as well be tracking, this chapter was also written in one night, between the hours of 11 PM and 2:30 AM. (It was edited some the next day.) How long can I keep this up? I’m going to hate myself when I go back to school.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji travels to other supermarkets!

As predicted, the team wound up leaving for the Watchpoint sooner than anticipated. Hanzo accompanied them. After Winston went through the information he had provided, confirming that he had quite possibly saved all of their lives, there was no further reason to turn him away. Lúcio was very understanding of their sudden departure (he knew what it felt like, to be woken up in the middle of the night and have to run for his life) and promised that he would find his way soon.

Genji hoped he would. Hoped that Lúcio would encounter no resistance from a certain Japanese criminal syndicate.

He had forced himself to look at Hanzo’s files; if his body still worked in such a way, he was almost positive that he would have thrown up. Everything was disgustingly familiar. When he was younger, much younger, he used to casually let himself in to access files like those. Most of the time it was because he had gotten sloppy and let a security camera catch sight of him when he was supposed to be practicing his aim or studying something. When he _was_ studying, if he felt he did badly enough that his father or Hanzo or someone else would start to give him trouble about it, he would go in and fudge the numbers a bit. Slightly. Not very much. (Virtually all the time.) And during these escapades, like any young idiot presented with the opportunity to look at things he wasn’t supposed to, he had gone snooping. No one ever caught him, he knew that for a fact — computer hacking was one of very few things that young Genji was any good at. 

Many, many nights had been spent reflecting on the inherent irony of that, considering what happened next.

The time was two o’clock in the morning. He was sitting in the co-pilot’s chair of their highly covert aerial transportation craft, with Lena at the helm. He used to be her co-pilot whenever they were deployed together on a mission that involved complex aerial maneuvers. She didn’t necessarily need him for anything at the moment, but when he appeared in the doorframe almost as soon as they had left the ground, she had immediately understood what he was there for and gestured to the other empty seat. 

It was a small chopper. Hanzo was in the only other room. And even though he had tried, he tried very nobly, Genji couldn’t stand to sit in silence with Hanzo any longer.

“See anything, love?” Lena asked him, cutting through his thoughts like a dragon’s blade through a dragon’s flesh, _please no, he doesn’t want that at all, please_ — “We’re not being followed?”

There was a long pause. Or maybe it just felt long, because everything in Genji’s mind was screaming. “…No one at all,” he confirmed, a few beats too late. “I think we actually made it.”

“Excellent.” A smile flickered on the woman’s face, but it was short-lived. She knew that this problem wouldn’t be solved with cheerful grins and inane British Tracerisms, which was something Genji always admired about her; she knew exactly what to do when her usual approach would fail her. Instead, she gently asked: “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe.” Suddenly, Genji seemed to develop a striking interest in looking out the window again. “I’m not sure what I want right now.”

Lena nodded and gave a sympathetic ‘mmm’. “Okay. I’m happy to lend an ear whenever, and you know you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Genji sighed, and part of it was from relief. He really did feel a bit better hearing that from her… and he did want to talk about it. He just wasn’t sure where to start. Eventually he decided that it might be easiest to focus on Lena, not him, just for the start; that made things easier. (He could feel Zenyatta in the back of his mind. Or maybe it’s not Zenyatta. This is a roundabout way in and he knows it, they both know it, Zenyatta would forgive him easily but Genji sure wouldn’t. He’s sorry, Master, he’s really sorry.)

“He doesn’t know anything,” the cyborg began, and he wasn’t sure whether to say Hanzo or Brother so he just defaulted to _he_. “He does not know why I am with Overwatch, or why I am alive. Why I look like I do. Where I’ve been. He doesn’t know who led the strikes against our family last time. None of it. I know I must tell him, he needs to know— but what strength I had is fading. I cannot look him in the eyes. I can’t even inhabit the same _space_ as he does, you saw.” How long was this going to carry on for? Would he be skulking around the Watchpoint, the one and only place where he had felt safe since parting ways with his master, knowing that even those halls were no longer sacred?

(He and Zenyatta said their temporary farewells amicably. Genji was confident that he would be able to do this on his own, at least take a small pilgrimage with everything he had learned, and then they would rejoin one another again. He thought he would be able to face up to his shadow when the sun crept low in the sky. What a joke.)

Lena considered this. “You… still love ‘im a lot, don’t you?”

Genji knew the answer immediately, but it still took a moment to wrangle out of his mouth. “…Yes.”

“Thought so. I don’t think you’d want him to learn the truth so bad if you didn’t. Listen, love: it’s okay if you can’t talk to ‘im right now. You shouldn’t have to if you’re not ready, and that’s what friends are for, yeah? When we get back to Gibraltar, Angie will be waiting for us, and she’ll have to sit him down for an exam anyway. I’ll make sure she knows to fill him in on everything.” 

“…That would be easier,” he mumbled.

She extended one arm to put her hand on his shoulder, looking away from the sky for a moment. “You don’t _have_ to do it all by yourself, Genji,” she told him. “I know you want to, and that’s great. But you’ve already been through too much in the past twelve hours. You deserve a break, and we’re here to cover you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he went back to looking out the window.

It was like the weight of the situation had crushed him in a sudden flood. He had been doing fine until now. He literally ran into his would-be murderer in the middle of a faraway city, _drove him home_ , and kept it together better than this. It had felt more like a sick, horrible dream — and Genji was no stranger to horrible dreams — but he always woke up from those, and in the end he knew they were all fabrication. And how could this _not_ be fabrication? Could he really be faulted for thinking that? 

_A goddamn supermarket_.

Honestly.

At some point, Genji fell asleep, and only woke up when he heard Lena and another voice over the radio. 

“State your name and business,” said a certain Angela Ziegler.

Lena was ready. 

“Cheers, love — the cavalry’s here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I’ve written anything more than a one-shot since… oof. 2011? I’ve been wanting to and trying to, but it just never stuck. And it’s been an even longer time since I’ve seen a fandom’s fanfic community so active. Basically, Overwatch fandom, you all make me very happy. <3
> 
> Also, at some point I’m going to have to write that Mercy-Hanzo conversation, and that’s going to be very interesting indeed.
> 
> As always, if you have any concrit on characterization or whatever else, feel free to leave them in the comments!
> 
> Bonus facts:
> 
> — Genji and Tracer are basically BFFs, and they pretty much always have been, even when Genji was a new recruit and powered mostly by glowing green rage. They work well together in battle and out.  
> — When Reinhardt realized Genji knew how to hack computers, he started saying “Hacker voice — _I’m in._ ” every time Genji entered the room. Eventually he only had to say ‘hacker voice’ before Genji finished the phrase.  
> — If anyone can verbally, classily, politely beat some sense into Hanzo, it’s Angela Ziegler.  
> — Tracer really likes giving people cute nicknames. She has one for Genji and most other members of the old watch, and she’s probably going to come up with some for the new kids too. (She calls Torbjörn “Toblerone” when she really wants to troll him.)  
> — Mei has a thing for early Internet original fiction, as well as fiction in general. She regards Homestuck as an important literary milestone, and enjoys making Sburb AUs of herself and her teammates. Her favourite characters are Jade and Terezi.  
> — Hana is also a Homestuck, but she’s never actually read it beginning to end, since she’s too busy. Mei tells her everything that happens. Hana sometimes plays the most popular songs from it during her streams.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing in this chapter has anything to do with supermarkets.

Angela was waiting by the landing pad when they touched down, wearing civilian clothes beneath a pristinely white lab coat. Next to her, in full armor for no explicable reason other than to look professional and impressive, was Fareeha Amari.

“Hello!” the two women said at once. They glanced at each other, and smiled.

Lena gasped loudly and blinked ahead to take her two friends in a hug before they had a chance to escape. Winston, Genji, and McCree had the decency to walk over like normal people, but soon Angela was hugging all of them and Fareeha was beaming so widely that her muscles probably hurt. True to form, the soldier was the first one to kill the mood.

“Did you meet any resistance on the way here?” Fareeha asked, and suddenly Angela was straightening up beside her and blushing faintly for her over-excitement.

“Nothin’. Genji and I were watching the whole time, weren’t we, mate?”

Genji’s laughter melded in with his words. It felt good to laugh again. “Yes, we were.”

Fareeha folded her arms and nodded. “Good. And when can we expect the full debriefing?”

“Soon,” Winston offered. “Perhaps in about… an hour? I told you the abridged version of events on the way here, and I think we could all do with a few minutes of relative peace and quiet.” He looked around at the other members of the Numbani crew for their input, and the consensus was agreement. Lena nodded at him and went to stand on Angela’s other side — without blinking, this time. She tapped the woman on the shoulder, then leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Angela made a strange face, glanced conspicuously at Hanzo (who had been standing a short distance away the entire time), and said something back.

“If that is the case, then I shall have to borrow the new agent from all of you, to enter him into the database. Come along!” Angela spoke quickly and moved quickly, as she often did when pretending she wasn’t secretly infuriated. She walked directly past Hanzo, beckoning for him to follow her to the medical bay. Hanzo scowled at Lena and then turned to leave as well.

When the double doors glided shut behind them, everyone in the room breathed a unified sigh of relief.

“…I thought she was going to behead him right there,” Lena said.

“The good doctor must’ve been waitin’ on this a _long_ time,” added McCree, with the tone of someone who had just witnessed a bear pursue and kill its prey, and wasn’t sure whether to be awed or scared for his own life.

Winston was shaking his head. “She must have known it was coming already, I _told_ her Hanzo was here.”

Genji said nothing.

Fareeha, with the stony expression of someone who had seen this happen many times before, decided to get the conversation back on-track. “So that man was your brother, correct?” She looked at Genji with something that could perhaps be interpreted as concern. “I realize we still have the meeting, but what exactly…?”

Lena opened her mouth, but Genji held up a hand. He appreciated the concern, but there was no need. “We crossed paths in Numbani and found that both he and Overwatch were striving for similar goals. Without knowing of my alignment, he openly stated that he was seeking us out to propose an alliance. Our ranks are dwindling… so I agreed.”

“‘You’ agreed? Did you happen to consult anyone else about this?” Fareeha was starting to sound like the ruthless captain her men loved and feared.

Without hesitation, Genji said: “I did not.” It was important to be honest with matters like this, especially when working with Fareeha. Was that spur-of-the-moment decision one of his brightest ideas? No. Logically speaking, from Fareeha’s perspective, it would have been best to let Hanzo slip back into the crowd, talk to the rest of the team, and then go back out to find him. Mm, that would have been the safe, protocol-approved thing to do. However, there was one thing that protocol always failed to take into consideration: reasons. Sometimes, the universe designed things that happened for _reasons_. When Hanzo brought up why he had come to Numbani, Genji got a powerful feeling that their chance encounter was important — and maybe not chance at all. (Pharah would have told him it was “wishful thinking,” but that hardly mattered to him.)

Fareeha fixed him with an extremely critical glare. “I suppose I should have expected no better of you.”

The woman turned and walked straight out of the room, her armor clanking rhythmically against the floor and itself. Genji watched her go. The Genji Shimada with whom Fareeha was familiar was a radically different person than the Genji Shimada who stood before her now, but she had no way of knowing that — this was their first time seeing each other in years. His reasons now were completely different than what they might have been before. 

But protocol didn’t understand reasons, and maybe it never would.

—

Hanzo Shimada sat in a respectable but dusty chair, hands in his lap. Across a large metal desk, Angela Ziegler was typing primly into a computer keyboard. Before, she was asking him basic questions as she logged him in to the Overwatch database, but had since fallen silent. She was not looking at him, she was not talking to him. A lesser man might have panicked, started wondering what he had done wrong, but Hanzo kept a tight leash on his nerves. He certainly did not expect to establish contact with Overwatch like this, but he was never going to let something as inconsequential as emotions get in his way.

“Mr. Shimada,” Dr. Ziegler said quite suddenly, with a voice like a whip-crack.

“Yes?” he responded, unfazed.

“I understand that you have a history of personal conflicts with Genji, who — as you know — is another working operative of our organization.” (Hanzo said nothing.) “I would first like to ensure you know that no matter what may have… _transpired_ , you and he both will be expected to restrain yourselves around each other, such that our mission will not be compromised. We can _not_ afford infighting in this organization. Is that clear?”

Danger was emanating from this woman in waves, but Hanzo ignored it. He barely even blinked at danger anymore. “I understand. I will not allow any interference to the objective… so long as Genji can do the same.”

He knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. Dr. Ziegler fixed him with a fierce glare.

“You are not inspiring confidence in me, Mr. Shimada.”

Hanzo was quiet for a moment, then said: “I understand. I hope I can change your mind in the future.”

“So do I.” Dr. Ziegler nodded, but her expression didn’t change in the slightest. “With that in mind, however, there are some things that it seems you do not know about your brother’s personal history.”

Hanzo tensed. He didn’t come here to talk about his past… grudges, and he was hoping that the doctor at least would keep things strictly professional and not allow herself to fall into personal matters. She was probably closer to Genji than he was, if the two of them worked together in Overwatch. (Which was still a bit of a shock, if Hanzo was being completely honest. He didn’t think that his foolhardy brother was even capable of pulling himself together for such an organization.) However, for the sake of his own mission, he had to grit his teeth and bear the disrespect. And, besides, there was a lot of things he didn’t know about what had happened to Genji; that much was clear just from looking at his brother’s body.

“For everyone’s sake, I and the others felt that it was prudent to bring you up to speed on the matters that the rest of the group already knows about, having witnessed many of them firsthand.” Dr. Ziegler took her hands off of the keyboard and folded them in her lap, leaning back in her swivel chair. Her eyes told Hanzo that the memories were a heavy burden for her; not wanting to appear rude by interrupting, Hanzo simply nodded.

“We — Overwatch — had been watching both you and Genji after your father’s passing. We were _also_ interested in combatting the Shimada clan’s rise to power, for obvious reasons, and felt that you two were the most promising weapons against them. Both of you showed much talent, and more importantly, both of you had very good reasons to turn your back on the clan.” (Hanzo’s eyebrow twitched.) “Genji had an extensive history of rebellion, as you know, and you… were hitting your own obstacles. In the conflict between love for your brother and loyalty to the Shimadas… we were hoping you would choose your brother.”

_But you did not,_ Hanzo could hear her continue, silently.

“After the two of you came to blows that night… Genji should have died. He _would_ have died, if no one was watching.” Dr. Ziegler paused. “But I was watching.”

The man’s boiling blood froze in his veins.

“I put your brother Genji back together piece by piece, creating synthetic replacements for the parts you had damaged beyond repair. Upon awakening, he did not call for your death; he put his skills to work, dismantling the Shimada empire. When the clan fell years later, Genji was the one tirelessly leading the charge.”

He did not succeed, as the elder Shimada well knew… but Genji had done far, _far_ more than he realized. Not him, not Hanzo. He understood now. He— he’d barely accomplished a fraction of what his ‘idiot’ brother had. And what had Hanzo been doing this entire time? Waffling over his decisions, and fleeing into the mountains after finally working up the courage to leave the clan. Only now, much later, was he even approaching progress on the mission Genji started years ago.

“From the look on your face, I take it you did not know this.” Dr. Ziegler looked sad (for Genji, of course, not him) but her voice was still steady. “But with your new knowledge, I encourage you to carefully consider the situation you’re in, and how you plan to approach matters from this point forward.”

Hanzo was silent for what seemed like an eternity, willing his mouth to work.

“I will,” he finally said.

Dr. Ziegler still did not look convinced, but he didn’t expect her to. Instead, she put back on the mask of indifference that he suspected she wore all the time. “In that case, we have nothing further to discuss here.” She glanced at her computer screen. “And it is nearly time for the debriefing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO HOW ABOUT THAT SOMBRA. I’m really happy that we finally have a black-hat hacker in-universe. All my cyberpunk dreams are coming true.
> 
> Also hi everyone, sorry for the break! As you may have guessed, I — like a lot of people — moved back into college for the new year recently. Work hasn’t gotten too heavy yet, but unfortunately, that also happened to coincide with an event on Love Live, and I… kinda underestimated how much of my time I would end up devoting to that. n_n; But either way, I’m not going to be doing another one for a long while. My heart can only handle so much hardcore aidorus.
> 
> This chapter has been unedited for the most part, but I don’t even care because I want to get it out NOW.
> 
> Bonus facts:
> 
> — Pharah is very skilled at sick burns, which she may have gotten from Ana. So is Mercy when she feels justified in using them, which is almost never.  
> — Genji is super duper Chaotic Good. This is great sometimes and not-so-great other times. It mixes especially badly with a Genji who lets his anger get the better of him. (Case in point, that thinly veiled jab at Pharah in ‘protocol doesn’t understand reasons’.)  
> — Zenyatta is… well, he’s Zenyatta. I suppose you could make a case for Lawful Good if the ‘laws’ are not made by governments but by the truths of life itself. You could also make a case for Neutral Good, because as we know from his relationship with the other monks, he is fully capable of peacefully disagreeing with ‘law’ and moving on to achieve that which he believes will do the most good. However, the “law” he disagrees with in this scenario is different from the “law” of the truths/teachings he believes in.  
> — look zenyatta is complicated okay


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters may or may not involve supermarkets from now on.

The debriefing was exactly as uncomfortable as Genji expected it to be, and thoroughly exhausting besides. Lena was right; he had been through far too much in the past day or so to sit through Fareeha and Angela verbally lashing him for half an hour. Hanzo was surprisingly reserved, only speaking when spoken to, casting glances at Angela surruptitiously. Why, it was almost as if she unsettled him. Angela had that effect on people, Genji had found out long ago; when someone is out of her good graces, they always feel as though there is a knife perpetually pressed to their throat. (Or power source, as it were, in Genji’s case.) After the meeting ended, Genji walked straight out of the room, not bothering to hang around and chat like he usually would. No one stopped him.

Almost robotically (ha) Genji navigated the series of hallways that brought him back to his own private quarters. It was cramped by most people’s standards, but the Gibraltar base had been constructed during a time when Overwatch actually had a sizable number of people in its ranks. Now that almost every room was abandoned, every room seemed unnecessarily tiny — but Genji didn’t mind. Contrary to his upbringing, he didn’t need much space to be comfortable. So long as there was a roof (or tree, or rocky outcrop, etc.) over his head, he was content.

Well, ‘content’ was a strong word in this particular instance, because Genji didn’t feel very content at all. He felt miserable, in fact. Without bothering to turn the light on, Genji took the few quick strides he needed to get to his bed, and sunk down onto it. His robotic joints squeaked in time with the aging wooden bedframe, another testament to how weary he truly was. (He would need to have Angela check that out later.)

Genji didn’t feel like he had the energy to do much of anything right now. He figured that he would go to sleep soon, regardless of the time. (It was 3:03 AM. An alarm would be going off in five hours. Whatever.) He pulled an Internet browser up on his HUD, searching for some mindless entertainment to lull him off to sleep, and decided on the recording of a D.va stream he had evidently missed. It wasn’t a battle, thank god — he didn’t have the emotional fortitude to watch her battle — but rather some kind of weird hybrid game between card battling and turn-based tactical RPGs. He watched the colourful little pixel monsters toddle around the field, striking one another down, with D.va’s gleeful narrative over it all, until he slipped into unconsciousness.

In the end, Genji slept through his body’s own alarm, as well as the one that Athena fired off an hour later for a completely unrelated reason. The AI, a benevolent goddess as always, let him rest.

— 

Meanwhile, a large SUV pulled to a halt about fifty yards away from the Watchpoint. Food wrappers were crumpled up in a bag on the floor, between the two rear passengers — one of whom was on her phone, and the other staring out the window with smooth music pouring through his headphones. Up front, the passenger had a heavy coat rolled up behind her head like a pillow; she was sleeping soundly. The driver was a man whose hair had gone white with age, a red visor pushed up on his forehead so he could see the ‘road’. All in all, it was a quaint little family unit, if you ignored the fact that they were all technically adults and didn’t look related to one another at all.

“We’re here,” rumbled the driver. He turned around to address the three other passengers. “Get out, and leave your bags. We’ll come back for them later.”

The young man pulled his headphones down to his neck and looked up. “Sorry, what?”

“ _Get outta the car_ ,” the driver repeated, irate.

“But what about the robot?” one of the young women asked.

The man glanced out the rear-view window to the trailer hooked onto the back of the car. Nothing of the contents could be seen from outside, but all four of them knew that there was indeed a giant pink robot in there. It had been rattling precariously for the entire trip, so it was never out of their minds for too long.

“Bring the robot,” he said.

The other three passengers began fussing with their seatbelts and getting out of the car. One of them, a lithe Korean girl, walked back to the trailer and unlocked the rear door. After a short pause, the driver reached up to his jawbone and detached the mask on the lower half of his head. This was going to be an awkward encounter either way, he figured, so he might as well get everything out of the way at once.

This was how the first wave of cavalry arrived to Overwatch: a dead man, a Brazilian rudie, a woman displaced in time, and a hot-pink portable death machine pilot, who all came together in a soccer mom van. Truly, the second golden age of Overwatch was upon them.

—

TRACER: gen?? Gen hellooooo  
GEN  
GENJI  
BAREFOOT GEN  
YOU NEED TO GET DOWN HERE LIKE NOW

— 

Everyone stared at all four of them, but predictably, their gazes lingered on the dead man more than the rest.

“Mornin’,” said Jack Morrison, as casually as he was able, which was not very casually at all. Mei-ling Zhou smiled awkwardly. Lúcio laughed and said, “Hi everyone. Been a while!” Hana Song and her robot waved as one.

— 

TRACER: GENJI I’M SORRY I’M COMING IN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter.
> 
> LMAO remember when I wanted to update on a weekly schedule? yeah, that never happened. I doubt that it’s going to happen. If you’re looking for something to read in the meantime, I recommend Snowsheba’s excellent fic “thanks, dad. love, hana”.
> 
> Also: I realize this sounds bait-y and I apologise, but I — like all fanfic writers — love comments! Seriously, comments are our lifeblood. So if you would consider leaving some down below, I would be eternally grateful! <3
> 
> I’d especially like some input on how you think the story is going so far, and what you want to see. More character interactions (the obvious Genji and Hanzo? others too?) More “slice-of-life at the Watchpoint”? More actual plot (i.e. taking down the Shimadas)? Something else? I’m pretty torn about this story, since I like it a lot but I also don’t know what I’m doing with it, and I don’t want to… tarnish what’s already there, so to speak.
> 
> So yeah, like I said, please talk to me down below! Thanks! 
> 
> Bonus facts:
> 
> — The game D.va’s playing is Duelyst. Check it out, the sprite art is awesome.  
> — Athena is actually not the pinnacle of modern Overwatch technology. She is several years outdated, and Winston has not been able to keep her totally current. He _can_ keep her running seamlessly, though, which is still pretty cool.


End file.
